


keep your brittle heart warm

by schemingweirdos



Category: A.P. Bio (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, F/M, Fluff, Panic Attacks, jack just needs a hug from his gf, somehow i turned that into 4k words, yooo first ever jacklynette fic so true me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 09:22:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29187006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schemingweirdos/pseuds/schemingweirdos
Summary: Jack tries his best to ignore his anxiety during movie night with Lynette. It goes about as well as everything else in his life.
Relationships: Jack Griffin/Lynette Hofstadter
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	keep your brittle heart warm

Jack woke up in the dull light of the evening to half a dozen rejection emails staring him in the face.

He had fallen asleep on the sofa at some point mid afternoon, and now his overheating laptop lay uncomfortably warm on his stomach. It almost rolled off of him and onto the floor as he awoke, but he managed to catch it before it did so. He really couldn’t afford to buy yet another new laptop.

Although, Jack thought bitterly, the laptop wasn’t exactly much use to him at the moment anyway; it wasn’t as if anything he wrote with it was going to be published. If he lost all his manuscripts tomorrow, what difference would it make?

This was simply what Jack’s life consisted of now. He spent a good portion of the time he wasn’t teaching at Whitlock napping, and trying his best to ignore the gut wrenching feeling that came with being rejected by yet another publisher.

It had been light outside when he’d fallen asleep, but now the living room was dark aside from the glow from the laptop screen. For a moment, Jack closed his eyes and again and listened to the patter of rain outside. He sat up, closed his laptop and sat it on the coffee table before he reached for his phone. The sight of four unread messages and a missed call from Lynette made him jolt upright.

Lynette. The one bright spot in his otherwise miserable existence.

She was coming over tonight and Jack hadn’t prepared anything. The place was a mess, he hadn’t even had time to shower, or clean up the house, or even put out snacks. He stumbled off the sofa, still feeling groggy, and opened the unread messages.

17:31 - _I’m gonna stop in for pizza on the way over do you want anything?_

17:40 - _???_

17:41 - _Ok i’m ordering anyway i’ll see you soon_

17:43 - _And get wine :)_

Lynette sent the last message twenty minutes ago, meaning she would likely almost be at his place. He scrambled to tidy the coffee mugs and empty chip packets strewn around and grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses. With the wine bottle under his arm and glasses precariously clutched in one hand, he opened a bag of popcorn and poured it into a bowl, half of its contents spilling out onto the counter.

Swearing to himself, Jack dropped the empty packet and picked up the bowl in his free hand, slowly making his way over to the coffee table. He set everything down, turned on the lamp beside the sofa, and give himself a quick once over in the mirror.

His face was ashen, dark circles colouring under his eyes. There was a red mark on his cheek where the zipper of the cushion had dug in to his skin while he slept. Was he imagining it or were the wrinkles around his eyes more prominent than usual? Jack ran his fingers through his hair in a vain attempt to style the ruffled mess into something more presentable.

The sharp knock at the door made him jump, but when he turned, he saw it was Lynette stepping inside with a pizza box perched on her arm and a plastic bag in her hand. Her hair was a windswept mess, covering most of her flushed face. She grinned at Jack, the kind of bright eyed smile that made his heart flutter. Just the thought that she could be that happy to see him made him embarrassingly giddy.

She made her way over to him, setting the food on the coffee table next to the popcorn and wine.

“Hi,” she said and wound her arms around Jack’s waist, tucking them under his soft cardigan and burying her nose in his collar. Jack couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face as he wrapped himself around her and ran a hand through her messy waves of hair.

Lynette hummed contentedly, the sound muffled by Jack’s thick cardigan. He had missed her, so much it terrified him. He had only seen her at work that morning and still it had felt like an eternity.

“Hi,” Jack murmured, as Lynette lifted her head and stepped back from him. He reluctantly let her go, watching her make her way back to the front door to kick off her boots and remove her coat.

When she returned, she reached up and brushed a strand of hair from his forehead.

“Did I wake you up?”

Jack let out an offended snort. “What? No, I-I’ve been busy working all day-”

One of Lynette’s eyebrow raised, a smirk forming on her face. “Okay, sleepyhead.”

“I’m an academic, I’ll have you know it’s important to take regular naps to keep my brain functioning properly.”

“Uh huh,” Lynette said, her voice laced with amused sarcasm. “You wanna set out the food and I’ll sort the movie? I got a really bad horror movie for us to make fun of.”

As she made her way over to the television, Jack crouched next to the coffee table and sorted through the food. Rifling through the bag, he pulled the boxes and opened each one to look at its contents. His stomach grumbled as he caught the smell of pizza and garlic bread and he realised he hadn’t actually eaten since snacking on a few bags of chips after his class that morning.

“Oh, just leave that box at the bottom,” Lynette called over to him. “It’s just the chocolate cake I got for dessert.”

The chocolate cake was Jack’s favourite dessert from the local pizza place. Jack had mentioned it only once, weeks ago, but Lynette had remembered. A warm feeling settled in his stomach, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile as he looked at the box.

Lynette turned back to face him, the glow of the television casting a halo around her. Sat on his knees and looking up at her, Jack was mesmerised, just for a moment. She was smiling, her eyes bright, the loose curls of her hair falling around her shoulders. Her lips were moving, but he was so busy staring at her, he completely missed most of what she said.

She stepped towards him, holding out her hands. Jack took them in his and let her pull him to his feet.

“You weren’t even paying attention, were you?” Lynette said, her tone light and teasing.

Jack placed his hands on her hips and pulled her towards the sofa. As they sat down together, Jack ducked down to kiss her cheek and Lynette wriggled away, leaning over to grab the pizza. She laughed as she did so, a light, twinkling sound, that filled Jack with warmth.

“You said something about some college students and a house that’s haunted...” he rambled. “I was listening, promise.”

“Sure,” said Lynette, smiling. She took a slice of pizza, biting off a mouthful and continued to grin at him.

She turned to the TV and lay against Jack, tucked herself into his side and pulled the blanket over them both. Jack brushed his fingers down her arm and nuzzled his nose into her hair. She smelled like lemons.

In little moments moments like this, Jack allowed himself to picture a future with Lynette spread out in front of him. Sometimes he would lie awake in bed, with Lynette curled up fast asleep in his arms, and in those weaker moments in the dead of night, Jack imagined what a life with her would look like. He had once had a nightmare about that, one in which he and Lynette had lots of fat Toledo babies, and she was excited about a vacuum cleaner, and their home was so sterile and devoid of personality. And worst of all, Jack had given up on his book and went to work every day at Whitlock with Marcus.

What Jack pictured now was nothing like that nightmare. Lynette didn’t want any of those horrible things either. Now, Jack just thought of waking up beside her each day, going home with her every night and snuggling up on the couch like they were doing now. Their home would be filled with all the silly little trinkets Lynette liked to collect. She would be completely supportive of Jack’s writing career, just as she always was, and once Jack was a famous and influential philosopher and his books were flying off the shelves, he could treat Lynette to all the wonderful things she deserved, instead of having to make do with only being able to take her out to places he could afford on a part time teacher’s salary.

They watched the movie in peaceful silence as they ate their way through the pizza, as well as all of the sides Lynette had purchased. She held out a box of potato wedges, kindly offering Jack the last one. They finished eating around the movie’s midpoint, and after tossing the empty boxes onto the coffee table and setting the bowl of popcorn in her lap, Lynette had settled back against Jack, taking his hand and rubbing her thumb across his.

The intimacy of it all made Jack breathless, his chest tightening as a heavy weight settled over him.

He couldn’t escape the fear that Lynette would find out something about him she didn’t like, and then she would leave him. The thought was an intrusive one, creeping up on him at the most inappropriate times no matter how much he tried to ignore it.

Based on what Lynette knew about him, Jack was lucky she was even interested in him in the first place. There weren’t exactly a lot of people fighting over a failed Harvard professor living out of his dead mother’s home. Hell, he had been judged to be only the 86th most eligible bachelor in Toledo. _Toledo_.

No one usually stuck around as long as Lynette had. Sure, he had charmed plenty of people into a few dates, some casual hook ups, a few of one night stands. A relationship? No one wanted that with Jack Griffin.

Lynette could have still been dating that hockey player if she really wanted to. A local celebrity. Undoubtedly she would realise her mistake soon enough and begin to regret her choice. Mary, Stef, and Michelle often joked that he was punching above his weight in his relationship with Lynette. It was only playful teasing, but he also knew that they were right.

Jack rested his chin on Lynette’s shoulder and tried to focus on the movie. The feeling of anxious nausea was beginning to claw at his stomach, and Jack cursed himself internally. Why was it so difficult for him just to enjoy a relaxing evening watching a movie with his girlfriend? How much happier would he be if his brain just took a break for once? He had done so much research for his book and spent so much time with people who were happy spending their whole lives in Toledo. How did they manage to be content with their circumstances when all Jack could do was feel like he was drowning?

Jack could vaguely hear Lynette’s voice, like static coming through a radio.

“Why is everyone in these movies so dumb?” she was saying, gesturing towards the television with a fistful of popcorn. “Look, she’s obviously going to get killed, I guarantee it.”

A young woman on screen, torch in hand, was entering a dark room on her own as tense background music added to the unnerving atmosphere. Or at least it was supposed to. So far the cheap, poorly directed movie hadn’t provided any scares at all.

Then the girl onscreen screamed and a figure jumped out at her. Dressed all in black, chalk white face and blood streaming from its eyes. It’s mouth was wide open, showing its sharp teeth as it let out a high pitched scream. The veil hanging behind the figure’s head; the long black gown. The crucifix necklace around it’s neck. It was an outfit Jack recognised all too well, from years of torturous Sunday school lessons, as well as from his nightmares.

At the sight, Jack jerked backwards, and the sound he made was nothing more than a pitiful squeak. His sudden movement pulled the blanket back with him, almost tipping the bowl of popcorn from where it was sitting in Lynette’s lap. She was quick enough to catch it before the popcorn ended up all over the floor.

She turned to Jack, snorting at his terrified reaction.

“I can’t believe that cheap jump scare got you,” she laughed.

Jack’s heart was pounding, so fast it felt as though it was about to leap out of his throat. His chest tightened and he struggled for a breath, like someone was pressing their entire weight on him. With tingling hands he grasped the blanket in a white-knuckled grip.

“You didn’t say there were nuns,” he blurted.

Lynette looked confused; she put the bowl of popcorn on the table and twisted around on the sofa until she was on her knees facing him, one hand resting softly on his knee. Her playful expression had vanished.

“Nuns?” she questioned, her voice soft.

“ _Yes!_ The nuns!” Jack gestured wildly towards the television, where onscreen a group of several nuns had gathered around an altar.

Lynette reached for the remote and then the room fell silent, the room dimmed without the light from the television screen.

“Okay, they’re gone,” she said. Her eyebrows were raised and her wide eyed gaze felt like it was staring right through him. She must have thought he was mad. Maybe he was mad.

Jack tried to take a deep breath, all the while feeling as though he were going to throw up. The dimly lit room suddenly made him feel very exposed, as every piece of religious paraphernalia his mother had owned stared down at him from each wall and surface. He looked around at it all and tugged at his cardigan which suddenly felt hot and stifling.

Even now, thirty years later, Jack could still hear the voices of the nuns from his Sunday school berating him every week for the slightest thing. For sticking gum under a desk; for fidgeting too much; for crying.

_You’ve been bad, Jack._

He still couldn’t breathe and he felt nauseous. What if he threw up on Lynette? She’d definitely leave him then. She would think he was gross and pathetic and she wouldn’t want him anymore.

Lynette was watching him, her lips pressed together in a tight line, her eyes still wide.

“Don’t put them back on,” Jack said.

“Okay-” 

“ _Don’t_!”

Lynette slowly reached for Jack’s hand, watching him carefully as though he were a wounded animal that could flee at any moment. It was instinctive, the way Jack backed away, clutching his hand to his chest. The hurt look that briefly flashed across Lynette’s face made him feel ill. He was so bad for her, she deserved someone much better than him.

“Just- just keep them away from me, I don’t want them looking at me.”

“Jack, it’s just a movie, it’s okay.”

The frustration bubbling in Jack’s stomach spilled over. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight the ringing in his ears that was only getting louder.

“Yes, but nuns are creepy!” His voice was almost a squeak, and if he had a more stable state of mind he would have been embarrassed about it. “They use their magic powers on you, and always tell you how bad you are, and- and-“

Jack choked on the words. He tried to catch his breath, but could only manage panicked gasps. He felt Lynette’s hand on his face, soft against his clammy skin. He fought to focus on it, to keep himself grounded.

“Jack,” she said, so soft and gentle it was almost a whisper. “You’re fine, okay? Look at me. There’s no nuns. Just me and you.”

Despite Lynette’s reassurances it still felt as though he were being watched, like the nuns creeping eyes were still staring at him from somewhere. Judging him.

The nuns were right. He was bad. All the philosophers Jack had studied had spent so much of their lives discussing the inherent goodness of man. Jack had spent enough of his own life debating it in classes, writing about it, teaching it to his own students. But the nuns with their magic powers didn’t need any of that. They had looked at Jack as a little boy and just known he was bad.

There wasn’t any arguing it. If Jack wasn’t bad, then why did he allow his sick mother to die alone? Why did he try to ruin Miles’ life with a petty revenge scheme? Why was he jeopardising the futures of the kids in his class? A good person wouldn’t do those things. The thought of his poor mother, ill and miserable and alone, trapped in her home just hoping that maybe her piece of shit son would finally visit her, made Jack feel sick.

Maybe his dad had always known Jack was bad too. Maybe that’s why he left.

All Jack did was drag down the people around him. Make them miserable and ruin their lives. He looked at Lynette, her green eyes sparkling in the warm light. Beautiful, kind Lynette who loved Toledo, who volunteered for charity, who picked out the ugly misshapen fruit at the grocery store because she felt bad for them. Who put up with Jack’s shit even though he didn’t deserve it.

Was Jack just the ugly misshapen fruit at the grocery store? Did Lynette just pity him because no one else wanted him? How long would it be before Jack dragged her down with him? She had once told him she didn’t think they weren’t a good fit. She should have listened to her first instinct.

To Jack’s absolute horror, a hysterical sob burst from his throat as he felt tears spring from his eyes.

“Jack,” Lynette was saying. He could feel her gripping onto his shoulder but her face was obscured by his blurred vision.

“ _Jack_ ,” she repeated, firmer this time. “Look at me, hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths okay, I’ve got you.”

He didn’t know the last time he had really cried in front of anyone let alone been in this state, but he hadn’t intended for it ever to happen in front of Lynette.

The anxiety that was already swallowing him up only intensified. He wanted to crawl out of his own skin. How mortifying, to turn into a blubbering mess in front of his girlfriend over a silly movie. Jack pulled his cardigan sleeves over his clenched fists as warm tears prickled against his eyelids.

Lynette pulled him into her arms, cradling him tightly and he buried his head in her shoulder. At least that way he couldn’t see how she looked at him. She was probably disgusted by how pathetic he was being.

Jack clung so tightly to her he was sure his fingers were probably digging painfully into her skin. Lynette didn’t complain; she just kept her arms wrapped around his trembling body and placed a hand on the back of his head, stroking gently through his hair. Jack could hear her voice, the soothing sounds barely reaching his muddled brain. He didn’t know what she was saying but he tried to keep focused on it anyway. She carried on until eventually Jack’s tears subsided and he was just left with a foggy headache and a dull ache behind his eyes.

The room was quiet, and Jack waited with baited breath for Lynette to speak. He considered how long it would take to make it to the front door. Maybe he could escape out of a window and that way he wouldn’t have to talk to her. He didn’t want to consider the possibility that she would decide his emotional baggage was too much to deal with and she would leave. His pounding heart slowly calmed, and his breaths stopped coming in sharp shallow sobs. Eventually Lynette sat back and cupped his face in both her hands. One of her thumbs stroked slowly back and forth across his cheek, catching a few stray tears in the process.

“You okay?” she murmured.

Jack sniffled, avoiding her gaze, but he felt Lynette’s lips press softly against his forehead.

“Sorry,” he croaked. “For ruining our movie night.”

He finally braved a look at Lynette. She was smiling, and she let out a sigh that was almost a laugh.

“You didn’t.” Her smile only widened. “Come here.” She pulled him into her arms again, Jack gladly following her lead and snuggling into her. “I can’t believe that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Well, I know you were looking forward to watching a movie,” Jack mumbled into her shoulder.

“It was a terrible movie anyway.”

“Still. I’m sorry.”

Lynette sat back, wiping a tear from Jack’s cheek. She kept moving further away; without thinking, Jack tried to cling to her.

“Be back in a sec,” she said, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

Jack curled into the blanket, listening to her pottering around in the kitchen and the sound of water running into the sink. When Lynette returned, she had a glass of water, which she held out in front of him. Jack accepted it in his shaking hand and took a small sip, before he set it down next to the glasses of wine and popcorn.

Lynette nudged him away from the corner of the couch and squeezed into the space he had been curled up in.

She reached out for him and Jack immediately followed Lynette’s instruction, stretching out on the couch beside her and laying his head on her chest. Lynette pulled the blanket over them, securing her arms around Jack, one hand under his cardigan, rubbing soothing circles over his back. Her other hand lay on the nape of his neck, fingers playing with his hair.

“So,” she said carefully, her soft voice seeming deafening in the heavy silence. “Nuns, huh?”

There was a pause, and Jack thought perhaps she was gauging his reaction before she continued.

“Is it just scary horror movie nuns or would it freak you out if you saw Whoopi Goldberg in _Sister Act_?”

Despite the sickening feeling still heavy in his stomach, Jack let out a laugh against her chest.

“You weren’t planning on making me watch that, were you?” he said, his voice muffled.

“Well, I don’t think I will now.”

They lay in silence for several minutes. Jack just listened to the steady beat of Lynette’s heart, his head resting comfortably on her chest as it rose and fell with each breath. He was working himself up to say something. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say. Usually he had these sorts of breakdown in private, with no need to explain himself to anyone. He could carry on with the rest of his day and pretend it had never happened.

Lynette wouldn’t push Jack to talk about something he didn’t want to, he knew that. But she wasn’t going to let him pretend it didn’t happen either.

He sighed, closing his eyes and curling his fingers into the soft fabric of Lynette’s shirt.

“D’you wanna talk about it?”

Jack didn’t reply, and a heavy silence settled over them.

Lynette broke it by poking him in the side, causing a surprised giggle to escape from him. She squeezed him a little bit tighter, and he then felt her kiss his hair, her mouth curling up into a smile as she did so.

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’m not very good at this,” he admitted quietly.

“Well, that’s okay,” said Lynette. “You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to. Just... you can.”

Jack turned his head so that his face was buried further into Lynette’s soft sweater. If he listened carefully enough, he thought he could hear her heart, each beat keeping him tethered to reality and not falling back into his spiralling thoughts.

Eventually he spoke up again, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“I love you.”

It wasn’t anywhere close to the first time Jack had said that to Lynette but the words hung heavy in the air anyway.

Jack looked up, his chin resting on Lynette’s chest. Her cautious gaze dropped down to his hand where it had found itself curled in a fist around her sweater, like if he didn’t keep hold of she would float away.

Their eyes met, and then Jack was being gripped by the shoulders, pulled until he found their positions reversed, with Lynette hovering over him.

“I love you, too,” she said. “So much. More than anything.”

Hearing those words from Lynette never stopped filling him with warmth, like his heart was going to burst with sheer joy. It never failed to surprise him, either.

Lynette quickly pressed her lips against his, again and again until Jack had lost count, before she moved to peppering kisses on his cheeks, his forehead, his nose. She didn’t stop until they were both giggling and breathless.

Jack twirled a lock of her hair around his finger as he watched the smile slowly wane from her flushed face.

“Jack,” she said, soft and careful.

“Yeah?”

“You know if you do want to talk, about anything, you know I’m here, right?”

There seemed to be a short circuit between his brain and his mouth. His lips parted, as if to answer, but nothing came out. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to say. Instead he just nodded.

Lynette rolled back down beside him and pulled the blanket back over them both as she settled her palm over his heart, her finger tracing patterns over his chest.

“By the way,” she said. “Whatever those nuns said to you, about you being bad or whatever? That’s not true. At all.”

That sting behind his eyes returned again, and Jack willed himself not to start crying again.

“And I think we should burn that DVD,” she said. “Like performing an exorcism or something. Smoke out the nuns.”

Jack laughed. Not because what she said was funny, he just hoped that doing so would maybe stop him from crying again.

What had he ever done to deserve Lynette Hofstadter? He got fired from Harvard; was forced to move home to Toledo; didn’t get the Stanford job; but all of it, every shitty awful thing he’d been through, had just led him straight to the best thing that had ever happened to him.

Maybe one day he would work out how to express all that to her, find a way to put into words exactly how much she meant to him. For now, Jack curled into Lynette, listening to the steady beat of her heart and for the first time that day, he was finally calm.

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ever(!) fic so thanks for reading and also i’m glad there’s now at least one jacklynette fic in existence. ps i’m dedicating this to the gdrh love you guys
> 
> edit 26/2/21. changed the title bc i felt like it. stream ‘peace’ by taylor swift


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